


Star Come Into the World

by starfishing



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-01-31
Updated: 2008-01-31
Packaged: 2017-10-21 19:28:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/228891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starfishing/pseuds/starfishing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She came up to just beneath his nose; he stood at just above six feet tall. He met her gaze and matched her smile.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Star Come Into the World

The next time he saw her, they were at Todai.

When they'd gone their separate ways from the National tournament, she said she'd keep in touch, and for a while, she had. There were letters, emails, and the occasional IM, when their busy schedules coincided. From junior high into high school, he saw less and less of her, and by the time he entered college at Tokyo University, he heard more about her from Pro Tennis Monthly and the buzz on the junior high tennis circuit than he did from the girl herself.

In his third year, Inoue came to visit him on campus one afternoon, magazine in hand, and showed it to him without a word. The page it was opened to was an interview of that season's national champions on the girls' circuit — Kyuushuu's Shishigaku, led by one Chitose Miyuki. Shiiba had asked about their training regimen, the teams they faced along the way, and how it felt to earn a victory for the under-represented Kyuushuu.

Then Shiiba had asked, 'What inspired you, personally, as a player, to go all the way to Nationals and win?'

'I've always loved tennis,' Miyuki had answered, 'but if you're asking why I didn't give up, it's because of Dorobo-niichan. I didn't understand determination until I watched him play.'

Inoue said, 'You can keep it.' Tezuka realized he was smiling.

The next year, she jumped into his life like she'd never left it. A pair of hands covered his eyes, and a singsong voice demanded that he guess who it was. He couldn't begin to. His classmates weren't so forward, nor could he think of any girls tall enough to easily reach his eyes. After four wrong guesses and rising annoyance, she released him and he turned to face her.

She came up to just beneath his nose; he stood at just above six feet tall. High school had treated her well, but she was still stick-thin, lanky with the same bizarre grace that he recalled her brother possessing on the court. Her eyes were agleam.

"Dorobo-niichan," she said, her voice lilting. He met her gaze and matched her smile.

"Chitose... -san."

There was a pause. She laughed. "Mi-yu-ki," she admonished. "And I'm not here to talk, anyway." Her grin spoke trouble. "You haven't gotten rusty, have you?"

He hadn't, and while she'd only gotten better, he still beat her, six games to two. She asked if he gave her two games out of pity, and he hesitated just long enough before saying 'yes,' in his gravest tone, that she knew he was lying. She punched him in the arm, laughing, and he felt the throb of pain as a point of pride and uneasiness.

She was all lean muscle and raw talent, with little in the way of technique but a world of natural skill. She could _be_ something, he was sure, with a bit of help— no, she _was_ something, and that's what was making him uneasy.

She was attractive.

"Loser buys lunch?" she offered, wiping sweat off her face with the collar of her shirt. Her eyes, dark as they were, glowed in the bright midday sun, and her skin glittered, bronze and diamond and soft. As he hesitated, he called to mind the interview he'd read, the scores of every match she'd won and lost since he met her in Kyuushuu.

He only refused politely once before he yielded.


End file.
